


Tea Time with Mildred

by grey2510



Series: Convos with Crowley [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Likely crack as in there's literally no reason for this scene to ever happen, M/M, Mildred from 11x11, Mildred is a delight, One Shot, Past Crowley/Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s11e11 Into the Mystic, but the characters are just too adorbs, hand wavy canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 12:19:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Crowley and Mildred Baker enjoy a spot of tea and pleasant conversation while Squirrel and Feathers spend more time staring into each other's eyes than warding the room like they're supposed to.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThayerKerbasy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThayerKerbasy/gifts).



> This is part one of a series -- and yes, I know which characters are going to show up in later installments. So make sure you subscribe to the series!
> 
> Thank you to my own personal Crowley, ThayerKerbasy, for helping me get this just right.

“Don’t forget the second line over the center circle,” Crowley comments from his chair.

Dean’s paintbrush makes an angry slash in the indicated spot—a little bolder than the sigil probably requires, but it should suffice nonetheless. He turns around to face Crowley, delightfully tense. Well, delightful as far as Crowley is concerned. Poor Squirrel really does need to loosen up…

“You could help, Crowley.”

“Seeing as you’re putting up wards against demons, my delightful self excluded, I can’t say I’m particularly inclined to help. Besides, it’s far more comfortable over here.” Turning slightly, he smiles graciously at Mildred, seated across the table from him. “The company is also more pleasant, I must say.”

Dean rolls his eyes and returns to work, reaching up to finish off the rest of the sigil. His jacket and shirt ride up a tad as he does, and he even has to go slightly on tiptoes to reach the very top.

“View’s much better over here, too,” Mildred murmurs under her breath, winking at Crowley, who is inclined to agree. “Tea?”

“That would be as lovely as you are.”

Mildred chuckles coyly, swatting his arm as she gets up. “Dean, you didn’t tell me your friend would be such a charmer,” she calls back from the kitchenette.

Dean shudders, but only Crowley sees. “Yeah. Real peach.”

“I’m a perfect gentleman, Dean. Not my fault you don’t see it.”

With a careful final stroke, Dean finishes the sigil, which flashes faintly before settling in. He lays the brush over the can resting on a newspaper-covered end-table. “Oh, I’ve seen it. That’s my point.”

Recalling his earlier thought, Crowley says, “You need to loosen up, Dean. Relax. Take a vacation. Get laid—"

And perfect timing. Honestly, he couldn’t have planned it better if he’d tried.

Castiel emerges from the bedroom where he had also been adding his own celestial flair to the room’s decor—Crowley idly wonders what kind of security deposit dear Mildred has on this place before deciding Hell’s coffers can more than cover that expense—and the angel inspects Dean’s work.

“Oh, good. You didn’t forget the second—"

“Line. Yeah, Cas. I can paint a damn sigil. Ain’t my first rodeo.”

Cas frowns, and his eyes flick to Crowley in suspicion, but Crowley knows he’s the picture of innocence, calmly awaiting his tea.

He wonders if Mildred has scones. If not, he can certainly duck out and get some. There’s a wonderful bakery in Edinburgh he hasn’t been to in an age…

Mildred returns at that moment with a tray laden with four cups, milk, sugar, honey, and some sort of delectable-looking baked good that smells like—

“Banana nut bread,” she confirms as she sets down the tray. “And I wasn’t sure how you all took your tea, so I brought everything.”

“You’re too kind,” Crowley says, taking a cup and adding honey and just enough milk to make it a dark tan.

Dean comes over and snags a piece of banana nut bread. “Ohh,” he exhales around his first bite, but he dutifully finishes chewing before saying, “This is awesome. You make it?”

“I’m a lady of many talents,” Mildred says, her eyes alight with flirtation.

Dean smiles, a little self-consciously, then nods and takes a cup of tea, deflecting from making any response with a sip. From the side, Castiel simply watches their interactions with that patented confused-angel head tilt, and Crowley’s fairly positive that there’s the barest hint of a scowl at the corners of Feathers' mouth.

Somehow, Dean manages to toast with his mug in a way that is both awkward and, dare he say, endearing. “Should probably…" he trails off, jerking his head in the direction of the paintcan. But before he goes, he takes another piece of bread. “One for the road,” he grins, and Mildred beams in return.

“Yes, it’s very good,” Crowley agrees, smirking with a raised brow at Dean while Mildred busies herself with her tea. “Banana nut—two flavors you particularly enjoy, if I recall correctly.”

It takes maybe half a second for the point to land home, and Crowley earns himself a scowl from the hunter, which he accepts with grace. Like he said, perfect gentleman.

Dean stalks away from the table as quickly as he can without spilling his tea, all for the good of Mildred’s beige carpeting, knocking Cas at the elbow with the hand clutching his second piece of bread. “C’mon, Cas. Let’s finish this off before the douche army shows up.”

Mildred and Crowley sip their tea and watch the hunter and the angel complete the warding, bickering about this or that, or having silent conversations that force Crowley to fight letting his eyeballs roll permanently to the back of his skull. The pair of them move further off into the room, away from the table, leaving Crowley to his pleasant company and conversation.

“Lord, it’s a good thing that boy is handsome because he sure is dense,” Mildred says, shaking her head.

He hates to admit it, but Crowley bristles a little at the slight towards Dean, though he knows he’s certainly called him and his brother ‘morons’ at least once. Perhaps twice.

But before he can rise to defend Dean’s honour—really, what has gotten into him these days—he sees the fondly teasing expression on Mildred’s face as her eyes flick between Dean and Cas before landing back on Crowley as if to say, _You’re seeing this, too, right?_

“Ah. Yes. Always has been. The angel’s hardly any better. Possibly even worse.” He helps himself to another piece of bread, this time drizzling a little honey on it—certainly an indulgence as the bread is quite delicious on its own, but what’s the point of being the King of Hell and a dealer in sin if _not_ to indulge?

“I told him,” Mildred says, vaguely waving a hand. “Said it’d never work between us.”

“His loss,” he assures her.

“You’re sweet.” She takes a sip of her own tea before continuing, “Said I could tell—he was pining for someone else. Looks like he hasn’t taken my advice, though.”

“And what was that, may I ask?”

“Follow his heart.” She smiles. “Best advice anyone can give. Just gotta take it. That’s the hard part.”

“Hm,” Crowley muses. “I suspect it’s harder for some.”

Mildred gives him a considering and knowing look. “I think if someone really wants to, they can. No matter how deep that heart is buried in there.”

“You’re a wise woman, Ms. Mildred Baker.”

With a laugh, she says, “Don’t I know it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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